


the air out of my lungs

by imperfectcircle



Series: Stories by theme: Romance [19]
Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Filth with Feelings, Multi, lightly edited chatfic, polyamorous pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectcircle/pseuds/imperfectcircle
Summary: First Favs started mocking Lovett's appearance, which was deeply rude and uncalled for, saying mean little things like, "Hey, nice shirt," and "Those pants really show off your ass," when Lovett was just trying to get on with his day.
Relationships: Jon Favreau/Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor
Series: Stories by theme: Romance [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/327392
Comments: 24
Kudos: 87





	the air out of my lungs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenopsia (indie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie/gifts).

> brawltogethernow on tumblr posted: "OT3s are just like, 'You know the thing where one character pushes another one up against a wall? But the wall...is Jeff.'" 
> 
> kenopsia requested any three characters with Tommy as the wall. With thanks to everyone who cheered along the way.
> 
> And as ever, please keep it secret, keep it safe. No one who is even remotely connected with CM ever needs to know this exists.

**Part 1: Jon Lovett**

Telling Favs and Tommy he was leaving the White House had gone suspiciously well at first. Everyone who worked there got weird and squirrelly when people left. They’d all — Lovett very much included — Stockholm syndromed themselves into believing the fate of democracy depended on them working sixteen-hour days with no time off for good behavior, so whenever someone did manage to escape, it threw everyone else off balance. And that was just the new recruits like Lovett — it was worse for the old guard like Favs and Tommy, who practically bled Hope and Change. Lovett had been expecting some minor meltdown at the news. Maybe a small desk accessory being thrown.

But it turned out whatever weirdness he’d unleashed was on a slow burn. On the day he told them — together, in Favs’ office, heart thudding in his chest — they took it surprisingly well. Favs gave him a bro hug that went on way too long and then pulled back to hold him by the shoulders, looking him in the eyes and telling him, _Hey, you know I’ll always have your back, okay?_ Tommy hugged him tight and sincere, then flicked the brim of Lovett’s hat and said something about how Lovett wasn’t getting rid of them that easily. 

It was good. Normal. Better than he was expecting. 

A couple of days later, he got the first hint that maybe he’d let his guard down too soon. This one was really on him — he knew how Favs and Tommy could get about things outside their control. He should have seen it coming. 

First Favs started mocking Lovett's appearance, which was deeply rude and uncalled for, saying mean little things like, "Hey, nice shirt," and "Those pants really show off your ass," when Lovett was just trying to get on with his day. 

"I'm sorry, we can't all look like we just stepped out of GQ's Rumpled But Still Fuckable spring collection," Lovett snapped back after some particularly egregious piece of sarcasm about how Lovett's _perfectly serviceable and barely slept in, thank you very much_ jacket "looks good on you," what the fuck. 

But instead of Favs blushing and backing off, same old same old, Favs had actually doubled-down and gone for the throat, all trying-to-get-laid smirk and big eyes, "You want to try me out for size?" which was really fucking rude for a Monday. He knew what he looked like vs what Lovett looked like. There was no need to rub it in. 

The negging died down after a few days, replaced with Favs and Tommy keeping secrets from him in an obvious and obnoxious manner. It wasn't like they were planning his surprise party, they'd just reference conversations he didn't know about and jokes he wasn't in on, all the while acting like there was nothing going on. 

One time Lovett was in the middle of telling them about this ridiculous asshole who'd cut in front of him at Starbucks and right as he was making his point, Tommy had just clapped Favs on the shoulder and said "Sorry buddy" like he didn't care Lovett was in the middle of a story. Admittedly, Lovett had been on his way out for a run, and maybe getting gesticulated at by a pudgy Jew in running shorts wasn't everyone's idea of a good time, but Favs had been putting up with worse for years at that point, so, again, rude. 

Another time Lovett had been, he can't even remember what he was talking about, something funny and dazzling, but the point was he'd been talking, and when he looked up from where he'd sprawled on the couch, Tommy had spilled coffee on himself and he and Favs were having a silent conversation with each other right there in front of him. That time he'd been a little, if not hurt, then at least put out, and had taken a quick time out, heading to his room with some sort of excuse about going to find a t-shirt that didn't ride up so much. It was fine, though, if still rude on their parts. They were still his friends, and he'd known going in they didn't react well to change. 

To add insult to injury, Lovett's DC dry spell was going strong, and all the weirdness Favs and Tommy were bringing to the table made complaining to them about it irritatingly unsatisfying. 

Before Lovett told them he was quitting, when he complained about the lack of enthusiastic DC cock, Tommy would roll his eyes and tell him a bad workman always blames his tools, then snicker to himself because, heh, tools. Now, Tommy just says something vague and supposed-to-be-encouraging about how he's sure there are guys who'd be interested, which, whatever, not helpful without a list of names and phone numbers, Thomas. Meanwhile Favs, Mr Hottest 30 Under 30 over here, has gone from just laughing helplessly at Lovett's rants to jokingly hitting on him, which is not any form of improvement. It's not even a very good bit -- he just says things like "I'd give you a hand" or "I would" like just the idea he would suck dick is enough of a joke he doesn't have to embellish it. 

Still, Lovett can't help but complain when, for the third evening in a row, Chad from Homeland Security cancels on him. 

“I can’t believe in all of DC there’s not one guy out there available to suck my dick right now," Lovett says, standing from Favs' couch to go get himself another beer. If he's going to be stuck with blue balls for another evening in Favs' apartment, he might as well make himself comfortable. 

Favs stands too, as does Tommy, which is weird. Favs puts himself directly in front of Lovett, looks Lovett right in the eye. Tommy is standing behind Lovett, so who knows what he's doing. Hopefully he has his phone out to call 911 in case Favs is having some sort of change-is-scary induced Moment.

Favs says, voice deep, "Lovett. I will literally suck your dick this evening."

Haha, very funny. Lovett rolls his eyes. "Sure. And do you have a bridge to sell me while you're at it?"

Favs lets out what Lovett can only call a growl and shoves -- actually shoves -- Lovett back against Tommy, whose hands drop to Lovett's hips automatically, holding him there as Favs stalks towards them. What the actual fuck? 

"Is this a joke?" Lovett's mouth asks while his brain takes careful notes for the guilty jerk-off session he's going to have about this after Favs and Tommy have hit the end of whatever fratboy nonsense this clearly is. "Like, you've got to know this is starting to feel like the opening of a porno."

Favs makes a deeply frustrated noise. "No. It's not a joke. I'm never fucking joking. That's the point. You're leaving; I'm basically not your boss anymore; I would like very much to suck your dick."

Oh. _Oh._ It is possible, just possible, that Lovett may have been wrong about a couple of things. 

"You should kiss him," Tommy says, right up against the side of Lovett's face, and he's talking to-- Lovett can't tell. Either way, it's good advice. 

“You should,” Lovett agrees. Tommy’s hands are hot at his hips, making him feel brave. “You should kiss me.”

If Lovett had had to guess how Favs would kiss, he might have gone for earnest, maybe, or sweet. Not this hot, urgent longing, this full-body passion, pressing himself against Lovett as the hard spread of Tommy’s chest keeps Lovett in place. 

Damn. 10/10 would recommend.

Lovett lets himself give in to Favs’ kiss, to the way Tommy is holding him so steady and sure, to the hot giddy mess of sensation of being bracketed between two of his favorite people and being able to feel — pressed up against him front and back — that they want him. He’s always liked the feel of a guy getting hard against him, that power and certainty, the anticipation made flesh, but this is that to a whole new level. This isn’t some guy’s dick, this is Favs’ dick _and_ Tommy’s dick, both pressed against him, both yearning. 

Favs pulls back but can’t seem to help himself, leaning in to dot a couple more soft kisses against Lovett’s lips before pulling away properly. 

“Wow,” Favs says. “That was, wow.”

Lovett grins at him, blood hot. “Wow yourself.”

They stand there beaming at each other, air thick with the best kind of tension, until Tommy, still at Lovett’s back, says, “Uh. Should I go?”

Does he want to? Lovett doesn’t want him to. Lovett really, _really_ doesn’t want him to. Not if there’s a chance he might stay. 

“I have a better idea,” Lovett says. He just made out with one friend while pinned against the other. Anything is possible. “You could be part of a very cool early going away present.”

“Opportunist,” Tommy replies, but it sounds fond, indulgent. Lovett has many favorite moods of Tommy -- pissy but amused, dorkily excited, adorably confused by someone being nice to him for no reason -- but fond and indulgent is near the top. 

"You’re the one who caught me." Lovett protests, committing to the bit. "I was an innocent bystander until Favreau tossed me like some kind of lunatic. It was practically a hate crime until—“

“Until he kissed you?” Tommy finishes for him, sounding not just fond now, but also steady, calm. 

“Right! A hate crime!” Lovett says. “Designed to torment me.”

“That sounds terrible,” Tommy says faux-sincerely. 

“It was! You have to stay and protect me.” Lovett is still in position, pinned up against Tommy and able to feel Tommy’s interest not only in the stirrings of his cock, which, who knows, could be more physiological than to do with the particulars of the situation, but also in the grip of his hands at Lovett’s hips, deliberate and clear.

Favs is just standing there, beaming, like the thrill of kissing Lovett pressed pause on him, which is not _not_ flattering.

“Okay,” Lovett says, holding out a hand to Favs which Favs automatically takes, no question, no hesitation. “Let’s recap.”

Favs darts forward and presses another kiss to Lovett’s mouth. “You are _so frustrating_.”

“Mixed messages, Favreau,” Lovett says lightly. Not to keep coming back to it, but he can feel how much they both want him, a physical fact that transmutes itself into a kind of a giddy, happy, shocked certainty, kicking any doubt or hesitation right the fuck out of him. He’s leaving town and somehow that’s flipped a switch or pulled a lever or something, and he doesn’t know what it means for tomorrow, but for today it means _yes_.

“Let’s not fucking recap,” Favs growls. “I’m going to blow you, and you are going to stand there and take it, because oh my god you are the worst person.”

Oh no, how terrible. “You going to hold me up while Favs blows me?” Lovett asks Tommy on a hunch. “Make me take it? Help me keep going if it gets too much?”

And yeah, he’s got Tommy’s number, can feel the effect that has pressed right up behind him.

“I was just standing here,” Tommy protests, but he doesn’t let go.

And then, like a gift from the heavens, Jon fucking Favreau drops to his knees.

“Keep him still, Tommy,” Favs says. “I wanna—“ He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead pressing his face against Lovett’s clothed inner thigh.

“I really. Fucking. Need. Your dick in my mouth,” Favs tells Lovett’s thigh.

And. Like. Okay. Lovett knows, deep in his heart, that he needs to put the brakes on this long enough to establish things like: Has Favs done this before? Is this the kind of thing where Lovett needs to gently nudge him from a not-for-beginners fantasy to a more 101-style reality? Is Tommy, who is nowhere near as into casual sex as either Lovett or Favs, actually okay with this or just too turned on to think clearly?

Favs has gone into some kind of dick-craving sex fugue, and Tommy loves them both too much to say no to something they so obviously want, so it’s Lovett’s job to be the adult here. And that’s okay. He will do this for all three of them. 

But then, the best surprise in this day of pretty fucking amazing surprises, Tommy whispers in his ear, hoarse but steady, “He’s been practicing on me”

And oh, _oh_, they are circling the fuck back to that, Lovett needs every detail, but first he needs to cup a kneeling Jon Favreau’s flushed cheek in his hand, tilt Favs’ face up so he can see every second of horny shame-excitement-lust-desperation written there, and Feel a Feeling right down to his toes.

“He wanted to get good for you,” Tommy the sex snitch tells Lovett. “If he ever got the chance with you, he wanted to be ready.”

Lovett deserves some kind of medal for not blacking out with lust right there and then. Instead, he strokes his thumb over Favs’ bottom lip, feels the shudder that runs through Favs at the simple action. This is going to be incredible. 

“You going to be good for me?” Lovett asks, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice and not that interested in trying. Favs is the one on his knees here. Lovett can at least give him the reassurance of knowing Lovett sees him, wants him, cares. 

Favs just kisses Lovett’s palm in answer. 

“And you?” Lovett asks Tommy, just as soft, just as fond, no excuse for the tenderness but that he wants to let Tommy in too, he wants Tommy to be as much a part of this as Favs. “You going to keep me going?”

Tommy kisses the side of Lovett’s neck, soft and certain. 

Right. Okay. “You, uh, you need anything for your knees there?” Lovett asks Favs, because it’s that or blurt out he doesn’t even know what. 

Favs, kneeling on his hardwood floor looking up at Lovett with a smile, just shakes his head. 

“He likes it,” Tommy says. “He likes the way hurts, after. It’s how he knows he did a good job.”

Lovett can think of nothing less erotic than aching knees, but the way Favs swallowed at Tommy’s words has him reassessing.

And then Favs lifts his hands to Lovett’s zipper. “Please?”

Fuck. Lovett cannot even with this. Jon Favreau on his knees, hands raised, begging for Lovett’s cock. Begging.

“Make him wait,” Tommy says.

Lovett bites back on his first instinct (“_You_ make him wait”) and instead takes a breath, drops one hand to rest on Tommy’s at his hip. Strokes his thumb over Tommy’s.

“Please,” Favs chokes.

“Not yet,” Tommy says.

Lovett doesn’t know how he’s gone from an active participant in this to an extension of Tommy’s will, but he loves it even more than he would have thought. He gets Favreau begging to suck his cock _and_ he gets Tommy telling him what to do. 

He’s integral to what’s happening here. Needed. Wanted. He belongs.

**Interlude: Tommy Vietor**

Tommy doesn’t exactly know when he went from full internal _!!!!_ to this clear, calm determination that he was going to get all three of them through this, but it must have happened, otherwise there would have been nothing in his mind left to short out when Lovett’s hand touched his.

They are collectively only the distance of Favs’ mouth to Lovett’s cock away from a threesome, and he can’t focus on anything but Lovett carefully, so carefully, stroking his thumb.

_!!!!_, his brain tells him, not for the first time this evening, while his mouth somehow manages a, “Not yet,” that suspends all three of them a moment longer in this perfect tension of desire.

He’s going to get them through this. That’s his job. He is the designated driver of this threesome, and he’s going to be worthy of the trust his two favorite people are putting in him right now.

A gear shifts, and he knows with exquisite clarity that it’s time.

“You ready?” he asks them.

Favs nods, too overwhelmed to speak. Lovett just squeezes Tommy’s hand.

“Okay, Jon,” Tommy says to Favs. “Show Lovett how good you can be for him.”

**Part 2: Jon Favreau**

Here is a complete list of people whose dicks Jon Favreau has had in his mouth:

1) Marty. Met in a bar approximately a week after the first time Favs made Tommy laugh. Not that he'd realized back then that the two things were connected. It was just one of those things he'd always meant to try, and, for some reason, then had seemed like the perfect time to try it. It wasn't the best sexual experience of his life, but it wasn't the worst. Something to tick off the old bucket list. 

2) Kyle. Met in a bar exactly two days after Favs interviewed Lovett for the speechwriting job. That time it was a lot harder not to notice the connection, but he'd tried. Still no fireworks, but it was fine. Better than with Marty. Middle of the road, even if it was a road he didn't intend to drive on again.

3) Tommy. Tommy, and Tommy, and Tommy. One time, not long after the first time, Lovett had abandoned the two of them to go get laid and Favs had been so desperate for Tommy's cock he'd gagged on it, the exact opposite of sexy, but Tommy had just stroked his hair and told him it was okay, and then, when Favs tried again, breathlessly told him, “Lovett would like this. Lovett would think you were good. So good for him,” and Favs had come the second he got a hand on himself.

And now, any moment now, (4) Lovett.

Jon takes Lovett's dick out of his pants gently, reverently. He needs to make this good for Lovett, he needs to make this good for Tommy.

He presses his face gently to Lovett's dick, kisses its underside, and then, just like he practiced on Tommy, takes Lovett into his mouth.

One of Tommy's hands leaves Lovett's hip to trace the seam where Lovett's dick enters Favs' mouth.

Favs goes for it. Loses himself in the rhythm of it, the heady musk, the feel of Lovett velvet soft and blood hot.

He's going to make this so good for them. He's going to be so good for them. He's going to make them so proud of him.

Tommy cups his hand round Favs' head, softly urging him on, and there, that's it, Favs relaxes into the moment, letting himself exist in the weight of Lovett in his mouth, the comforting pressure of Tommy's hand, the sound of Lovett's soft, punched out breaths.

The very first time he did this with Tommy, they'd been the kind of tired that makes you sloppy-stupid, the kind that gets into your bones and makes you feel like nothing is ever going to change in the crushing pressure of working at the White House, of wanting Jon Lovett, of being exhausted and not-quite-good-enough for everything you ever try.

He'd said something to Tommy, he doesn't remember what, about how maybe if he'd gone for it with Lovett right at the start, maybe then it wouldn't have been a whole thing, maybe it wouldn't have got so weird and big and frustrating, and Tommy had said something back, Favs doesn't remember the words just the tone, that fond sympathetic _that's rough, buddy_ of someone who's in exactly the same boat as you and can't see land either.

But Tommy at least knows how to give a blowjob, Favs had said, too tired to self-censor.

Tommy had laughed. "My one selling point."

And then Favs had had to sling an arm over his shoulder and start to impress upon him the many, many other selling points he had, and somewhere in that his gesturing hand had landed on Tommy's thigh, and Tommy had looked down at it and up at Favs and quirked an eyebrow, _yeah?_, and Favs had thought, _Fuck it, why the hell not?_

And then Favs had been on his knees between Tommy's legs while Tommy had maybe said something like, _Hey, I didn't mean-- oh, okay, okay, right, we can-- are you sure?_ in a voice that got increasingly breathless as Favs demonstrated that he was sure, and he was willing to learn.

Favs sucks Lovett's dick and thinks, _Tommy likes it when I use my tongue._

Turns out Lovett does too.

Tommy says, "He loves this," and Favs can't tell who he's talking to and who he's talking about, but both ways rounds it's true -- Favs loves this, he loves it so much, the physical sensation of giving Lovett what he needs, of holding him so intimately and giving him pleasure; and Favs can feel that Lovett loves this, can hear it, is getting a whole surround sound multi-sensory feedback bonanza of evidence that this is doing it for Lovett the way he and Tommy had talked about, the way he and Tommy had wanted.

Lovett tries to pull away -- "I'm going to--" -- but fuck that, Favs has practiced for this, he's ready, he's got one shot to convince Lovett he means this. 

Let Lovett wreck him. Let Lovett see how desperate he is. Let Lovett fucks his face and know Favs may not have been made to be used like that, but he’s been remaking himself for the chance.

He grips Lovett by the hips (his right hand finding Tommy's left) and holds them both there, makes Lovett make him take it.

"Holy. Fuck," Lovett manages eventually. "Ho. Ly. Fuck."

Favs wants to keep Lovett's cock in his mouth until it has softened completely, feels tender and possessive in a way he can't put into words, but he feels like maybe that's not a thing you do when you're trying to convince someone you're worth a second fuck.

"That was. Holy fuck." Lovett brings one hand down to dopily stroke Favs' cheek, brings the other up to stroke Tommy's. It's sweet and a little uncoordinated. "I can't believe you guys. That was. Fuck."

Favs doesn't know what to say. The last words out of his mouth that weren't some variation on "please" or "let me" were telling Lovett how frustrating he is, which Favs stands by, but again, may not be the most helpful in getting his mouth on Lovett again. Though, you never know. It worked this time.

"Okay, I am not up on my surprise going-away-present threesome etiquette, but I feel like I should not be leaving the two of you unblown," Lovett says. He steps away to sit down on the couch, and Tommy lets out this tiny whine of frustration Favs has never heard before but needs to hear again.

"In your head, how did this go?" Lovett asks them. "When you --" Favs "-- were sucking your --" Tommy's "-- dick and pretending it was mine, which, that is single hottest thing I have ever heard, oh my god. After you'd sucked my brains out of my dick, what happened next? Did I go down on someone? Did one of you fuck me? Spit roast? Because I probably can't take both of you at once, but anything else is on the cards."

Favs' ears start ringing at _take both of you at once_ and, from the look on Tommy's face, he's not the only one.

"We didn't--" Tommy starts.

"Wow, rude," Lovett says. "Fantasy me is going to get his dick sucked and then leave the two of you high and dry? What an ass."

Tommy looks at Favs helplessly, not wanting to say it if Favs doesn't. Twin shames burn through Favs -- of the secrets Tommy has spilled already into Lovett's ear, of the secret he's offering to keep. It’s that good good bright thrilling shame, though, hitting him in the best way, the shame of being known and seen, every desire and intimacy, every secret brought to the surface. 

Favs draws a breath. Makes himself say it. "Normally after I'd got Tommy off I just stayed on the floor and jerked myself off while he told me how good you'd think I was."

Lovett lets out a noise like he's been slapped.

"If it were physically possible for me to get hard again right now, that would be doing it," he says, reaching out so he can take Favs' hand. Then, soft, sweet: "Come up here and kiss me, okay?"

Favs lets himself be pulled up and onto the couch.

Lovett keeps hold of his hand. Turns to Tommy, who is still standing there, awkward and painfully hard. "There's room on the couch for three."

Tommy sits down on Lovett's other side.

"Is this okay?" he asks. It's not clear which one of them he's talking to.

"Is it okay that my two incredibly hot, not-nearly-as-straight-as-I-had-been-led-to-believe friends, who I would walk through actual, literal fire for and who I know would do the same for me, would like to express their friendship for me through the medium of dick?" Lovett asks.

After they've stopped laughing, Favs looks Tommy in the eye. "Wouldn't be the same without you, buddy."

"Seriously? Sexuality is a diverse and multi-splendored thing that cannot be contained by simple binaries, but how can you even make an invitation to a gay threesome sound straight?"

Favs shrugs. "Just lucky, I guess?"

And then Lovett is kissing him, open mouthed and sloppy and eager, kissing him with happy enthusiasm and promise, kissing him like the taste of his own come on Favs' lips is precious, kissing him like he's the one trying to convince Favs of something.

Lovett breaks away, panting. "It is criminal that no one has got their mouth anywhere near Tommy yet," he says, turning to kiss Tommy with the same happy enthused passion he'd just shared with Favs.

They look gorgeous together, so hot and so touchable, Favs kind of wants to just rub his face against them where their mouths meet.

There's a bunch more kissing, the three of them making out on the couch like they have all the time in the world, until Lovett pulls back, stands up to look at them both, and says, hands on hips, "I'm going to need some dicks on me or in me now."

Favs' dick is into this plan. Favs' everything is into this plan. Favs' heart is not entirely sure it can cope with the aftermath of this plan, but whatever, caution is just another word for failure.

Favs takes Tommy's hand in his as they stand together. He's not sure which one of them squeezes first, but they're gripping each other tightly, hope and promise shared between them.

Lovett leads them to the bedroom, pushes them gently towards the bed.

Favs wants more things than his body can contain.

"I'm not going to last," he makes himself say, conscious that he's one stiff breeze away from coming in his pants. "Could I -- Your hand?"

Lovett swallows. "You are so fucking hot, you know that?" he tells Favs, pulling him close and kissing him.

"Get him off now and he might be able to go again later," Tommy tells Lovett.

"Wow," Lovett says into Favs' mouth. "You're really something."

Favs' hair trigger has never previously been a selling point, but if Tommy and Lovett want to pretend it is, he's not going to argue with them now. He just kisses Lovett back, reaches one hand out behind him blindly for Tommy, and lets Lovett undo his pants.

Lovett's grip on him is perfect amazing too much perfect and over too soon, but god it was good, made all the better by the way Lovett kisses him through his orgasm, kisses him after it, kisses him like he could settle in for this all night.

Favs pulls Tommy to them so the three of them are in one big hug-kiss situation, and after a while of sloppy multidirectional making out, says, "So, uh, I have an idea?"

"Does it get Tommy to orgasm, because if so, have at it," Lovett says. He's smiling, and he sounds so happy Favs can't help but kiss him again, light and fond, on the corner of his mouth. 

"Tommy should fuck you," Favs says. "While I get to hold you."

Tommy full body shivers at that. "I could be into that?" he says. "If you guys are?"

"Oh no," Lovett says sarcastically, "not being fucked by one absurdly and unnecessarily hot guy while another absurdly and unnecessarily hot guy makes me take it. That's my least favorite way to spend an evening."

Favs and Tommy get Lovett ready together, fingers twisting inside him together, taking care of him and giving him what he needs together, the two of them getting to share him with each other, getting to share themselves with him.

Favs gets Lovett lying back against his chest, every point of contact precious and satisfying, and takes Lovett's wrists in his hands.

"Is this good for you?" he asks. Something in his tone must give him away, because instead of more sarcasm, or even playful teasing, Lovett just says, low and sincere and deeply sexy, "So good."

Tommy's looking down at the two of them as he puts the condom on. "Fuck. The two of you." He shakes his head gently. "I was just standing there," he says, an echo of his protest back at the start of this whole Event.

And then Tommy shifts Lovett forward, lines himself up, and, with the same tender care and steadiness he's brought to everything in Favs' life to date, works himself in.

Favs can feel it right the way through Lovett's body. The pleasure, the give. The thrill. 

Each thrust is a revelation. Lovett's body responds to Tommy's like they're made for each other. And Tommy's eyes. Fuck. Tommy gazes down at Lovett like Lovett is the answer to a question he's never dared to ask, like Lovett is the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow Tommy never thought he'd see for himself.

Tommy's gaze shifts to Favs, and Favs is caught and seen and known. Tommy knows every secret Favs has hidden, every desire Favs has never shared, every part of the mess that makes up his soul. And after all that, Tommy still wants to be doing this with him. The intimacy of it is shocking and kind of scary, but the good kind of scary, a scary that feels like leaping off a bridge into a lake holding your best friend's hand and knowing that whatever comes next you'll survive it together.

Tommy fucks into Lovett, and Favs feels every thrust in his bones.

Lovett starts squirming on Favs, meeting Tommy's thrusts with his own, reaching for pleasure that makes him moan out loud, makes him try to hide his face but Favs won't let him, Favs makes him stay there, facing Tommy, taking it, being in this moment with them both.

When Tommy comes Favs sees it in slow motion on Tommy's face, feels it full body in the way Lovett writhes on Tommy's dick. It hits him harder than some actual orgasms he's had himself.

Tommy rides out the orgasm then pulls out, flopping bonelessly next to Favs on the bed.

"Can someone kiss me before I die?" Tommy asks. "I can't feel my toes."

Favs rolls them so Lovett is bracketed between them, positioning everyone so Lovett can kiss Tommy for all he's worth while Favs lets himself move against Lovett's back, lets himself enjoy the sweat-slick skin and fucked out intimacy of the moment.

He wishes, suddenly and sharply, that Tommy hadn't been wearing a condom, that he could fuck his fingers into Lovett and feel where Tommy had been, push Tommy's come into Lovett and know that they both had him, that Lovett was theirs.

Instead, he just rests his fingers gently over Lovett's hole, stroking lightly, not pushing, not demanding, just enjoying the feel of Lovett, getting to have a part of him like this.

"You can," Lovett tells him, and for a moment Favs doesn't understand, is Lovett telling him to empty out Tommy's condom into him? The thought thrills him even as he realizes Lovett just -- just! -- means Favs can push into Lovett if he likes, can fuck Lovett on his fingers.

"Tommy, your hands still working?" Favs asks, his first instinct, his first desire, to do it together. 

Tommy takes a moment to form coherent words. He is thoroughly fucked out, one good kiss away from falling asleep. "I can," he says, and Favs knows Tommy can, if Favs or Lovett insists then Tommy will rouse himself instantly, will put himself to work.

"No, go to sleep, you ridiculous human being," Lovett says fondly. "I'm not going to come again, but if Favreau wants to rest his fingers inside me like some sort of giant pervert, I'm not going to say no."

"I do," Favs says happily, "I do want to rest my fingers inside you like some sort of giant pervert."

"Go to sleep," Lovett whispers again, and there's the sound of Lovett kissing Tommy's forehead or maybe his cheek. "Favs, have at it. But gently, okay. Don't fuck me, just-- I don't know. Be in me?"

He doesn't need to tell Favs twice. Favs cuddles up against Lovett's back and slowly, gently, reverently, pushes two fingers into him, feeling the heat and the give, knowing he can only do this because Tommy's cock has lit the way.

Lovett lets out a contented sigh and wriggles back onto Favs' fingers.

"That feels offensively good," Lovett says in a soft, conversational tone. "I don't know if this was a one time thing, or if you're, if there's a chance of a repeat, but if this temporary madness hasn't passed by the morning, I'm really going to need you to finger me until I come."

Favs kisses the back of Lovett's neck. "There's a chance of a repeat. If you're--"

"If _I'm_? If _you're_."

"I don't know what that means," Favs says, sex-drunk and happy, secure in the knowledge that Lovett wants him, that Lovett is letting him.

"It means." Lovett sighs. "Okay. It means as long as you -- and Tommy -- are in this fugue state, I'm here too."

"And if we're in this fugue state for a while?" Favs asks, thumb stroking Lovett's rim softly as Lovett keeps Favs' fingers inside him, lets Favs have this without question or mockery.

"I can be persuaded," Lovett says. "You're. Uh. You're both very persuasive. In case you didn't know."

Favs can hear the smile in Lovett's voice

"I'm persuaded," Tommy says. "Can we all be shush now?"

And for a while, they are all shush.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Don't Take The Money by Bleachers.
> 
> If you like, you're very welcome to come say hi on twitter - I'm [@krfabian](https://twitter.com/krfabian/), where I tweet about all manner of nerd stuff (and my original fiction). Tho it is an unlocked twitter, so I don't tend to talk about this fandom on there in anything but the vaguest terms.


End file.
